


Thoughts of a Goldfish

by ermete



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Batterfly!John, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Tomcroft, a lot of aus, animal!au, cat!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ermete/pseuds/ermete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of AUs, mostly inspired by gifs or fanarts, a little ficlet collection I'm writing in Italian and now I'm trying to translate in English. A friend of mine, CrackedActress (http://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackedActress), will help me in this translation work! Please, advise me if you'll find some grammatical errors so that I can correct them! Bye!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts of a Goldfish

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Thoughts of a Goldfish](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/117055) by ermete. 
  * A translation of [Thoughts of a Goldfish](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/117055) by ermete. 



> For this ficlet, I was inspired by this gif http://24.media.tumblr.com/8780fdd3cbb35127c8a1ab2cd2c68181/tumblr_n5ayqi3Rdz1s0xjvpo1_400.gif

Sherlock, a black cat with blue – almost transparent – eyes and a shiny coat, gives a high-pitched meow and jumps down from the living room window. He runs straight to the entrance of the large and luxurious home where he lives with his owner.

And it is right to his owner that Sherlock runs when he opens the front door, meowing his complaints because he’s late again. Well, to tell the truth, time is rather relative for a cat, but it is also pretty clear that,  _as such a cat_ , Sherlock demands that his owner devotes all his attention to him. Not to cases of national importance, not the Queen, but to him: Mycroft Holmes' cat.

Mycroft, the Iceman, takes off his mask of impassivity as soon as he closes the door behind him. Once he sees the cat trotting towards him, he even manages to smile and say "Sherlock!". He doesn’t even need to crouch because the cat nimbly jumps into his arms waving the tail in his face.

"Mrew!" insists Sherlock who, as soon as he reaches Mycroft’s face, starts to sniff Mycroft's face as soon as he reaches it to detect all the new smells which contaminate the original scent of his owner’s skin.

"Yes, yes, you're right," admits Mycroft while he walks inside the big house, "I'm late”. He scratches Sherlock’s ears before placing him on the kitchen table. "But the Prime Minister is an idiot and I had to settle his affairs."

Sherlock seems to snigger, amused. He always does that. He’s done it since he has been adopted, since he has been collected from that dirty cardboard box left at the end of Downing Street. He remembers it as it was yesterday, or maybe it really was yesterday. What a funny concept that of time, for a cat. But after all, now that he was thinking about it, it couldn’t be yesterday: ultimately, he had grown enough since that day.

Anyway, he remembers that it had just stopped raining, he was cold and he felt terribly alone. He had seen so many people passing by the box in which he was in, but no one had stopped. Then Mycroft appeared, studying him with his grey eyes, and smiled. It was the first smile Sherlock had ever seen in his life and he liked it so much that he purred instinctively. Then Mycroft picked him up and took Sherlock home with him.

That's why Sherlock always listens to Mycroft and when the human's at home - and most of the time he's alone - he follows him everywhere. And both of them are very happy about that.

  


*****

  


The next day, unlike the usual, they have a guest at home. Well, it's much more than a guest, actually.

He is Mycroft's current boyfriend. Well, the word  _current_ isn't entirelyappropriate _:_ they have been together for so long that one could say that he is the one, but ...  _Grrr_! Jealousy makes Sherlock's whiskers vibrate furiously! That Tom, the philosopher...that human is nice and kind, that's true. He often gives beautiful gifts to him, especially exquisite food, funny games, spectacular strokes... but he also steals a lot of time that Mycroft would otherwise devote to Sherlock and only Sherlock!

Just as in that precise moment:  _his_  Mycroft and Tom are sitting on the sofa chatting nicely, touching, kissing... and he, Sherlock, has been at the foot of the couch for half an hour and Mycroft hasn't considering him neither for a single minute! It's outraging! That's enough! Now he'll stretch a paw to Tom's ankle and...

...And nothing. Time has stopped. It stopped because when Sherlock raised his paw and kept it in the air for that split of a second before the planned attack, a yellow butterfly leaned itself on his shiny fur, vibrating cheerfully at him.

Sherlock can't help but think, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! "

Meanwhile, the butterfly opens and closes its wings slowly, allowing Sherlock to see the symmetrical design of the drawing of the two thin membranes. "Oh, hello, you beautiful creature!"

The black cat swallows and remains still, with the paw still raised. He continues to watch the butterfly. "What should I do? How can I touch you without breaking you? You look so flimsy!"

"Flimsy?! I am not flimsy, I am strong! My name is John," vibrates the butterfly, "and you're a very beautiful cat!”

Sherlock meows quietly, amazed. He continues to gaze at the butterfly, bewildered. "You're... you're...gorgeous, John," he licks his whiskers, "you look so delicate, I'm afraid to break you."

"Hey! I'm small but I'm strong!" chuckles the butterfly before lifting himself up and then resting on Sherlock's nose, "and you're even more beautiful. You look more beautiful every time I look at you. With that shiny coat, those eyes that... that... " John hesitates because he can't find the right color to define those unusual eyes, "...look like a galaxy is exploding in them, together with the whole universe, the sky and all the stars."

Sherlock can't hold back a meow that is heard right away by Tom and Mycroft. They enjoy the scene, laughing and smiling.

Tom picks up the smartphone and takes a photo to capture the image of the butterfly – John – resting on Sherlock's nose. After that, he crouches down and takes Sherlock in his arms to place him on his lap, so that also Mycroft can pet him. "Look at them! They are beautiful, it looks like they are in love."

"A butterfly and a cat, Tom?" Mycroft quips wittily while he's stroking Sherlock, careful not to hurt the butterfly, "Don't you think they are a bit too different from each other?"

"They are different. So what?" Tom kisses Mycroft's lips, "I don't think you and I are so much alike."

Mycroft sighs and smiles: after all, he loves Tom also because of this. Because of his stubbornness and dedication to causes that he found futile before. Causes such as love and tenderness. Causes that now he definitely finds acceptable. But he can't hold back a small objection. "We're both human, though."

"Kierkegaard said that love survives any transformation”, Tom smiles, "So when this butterfly will change further, their love will survive."

Mycroft just can't help himself from laughing, and he's ready to contradict his partner once again. "Tom …"

"Shush..." Tom stops him with a kiss, then with another one. Afterwards, he looks down and shows him Sherlock and John: a black cat and a yellow butterfly continuing to look at each other as if the world could explode in the precise moment they would cease to do so. "Look at how beautiful they are together."

Mycroft can do nothing but surrender. Because Tom's kisses are scented of cinnamon tea, and because he's became addicted to the bittersweet taste of his lips: a real drug. A good, not harmful one, even if you're addicted to it. He finally gives up and looks down, toward his beloved cat Sherlock, who is resting on their laps and seems to have started a silent conversation with the beautiful butterfly. And since Tom's given him a little bit of madness and metaphysical irrationality, he finds himself hoping that those two little creatures can really meet, in a parallel universe, and be together forever.


End file.
